“Now?” I said, surprised.
“Yep, now.” He said triumphantly, “Grab a bag and some of those cans.”
I grabbed a few of the paints like he asked, and we head out into the cold night air. It stung my skin, making me wish I had brought a jacket, but I ignored it as I tried to keep up with Barcode going up the sidewalk.
He led me not far from the apartment, into the local junkyard. Left over signs laid in piles inside its fence, as me and Barcode stood outside. The he started climbing over the fence as he ushered me to do the same.
I could have back out reader, I could have and then nothing would have happened. But I was committed, and I was already deep enough into this dangerous world. At least, that’s what I thought. I tossed over the bag and started over the fence, but I nearly fell climbing the other side as I saw the lights of cop cars coming up the street.
“Come on!” urged Barcode,” We have to hide!”
Silently I followed him as we hid behind a few of the signs in the junkyard. The cars passed us, responding to another call as Barcode took my hand and lead me farther in. A large billboard style sign lay on the ground, and he handed me the bag.
“Do what you want, I’ll keep watch.” He said. I never expected this rush, this excitement, but I liked it.
I pulled out random colors and drew stupid things like squares and circles. But then I got more elaborate as I relaxed. People being held back by those shapes, or even crushed by them. Then in each box I wrote SOCIETY in big letters.
Then I felt Barcode, come by and pull out a little stencil, a barcode one and placed his own drawing on the billboard before “signing” it.
“What’s your name?” he asked, meaning the street name. I simply wrote a name next to my own pathetic creation. The name of my late grandmother, Ethel.
“My name is Ethel.” I said quietly, as we then packed up the cans and fled the junkyard. I saw the police lights in the distance as we made it back to my apartment, but they were of no concern to me. Then as I went inside and was going to tell Barcode a much deserved thank you, I saw he was gone.
Gone, like had he never existed. The bag of cans at my feet, I went into my apartment, searching for his figure in the shadows, finding nothing. This was the only time he would take me out on a run. The rest was up to me. I placed down the paint and wondered to myself the only thing I could after that rush.
Was I even ready for this?